Dr. Richter stared at the misty grey clouds floating past outside his window. It was a dull day, dark and miserable and colourless. Not the sort of weather he enjoyed flying through. He stretched his legs out fully. Very nice. He’d never flown business class before, and he decided he liked it a lot. He looked across at Eradani, sitting in the next seat. She was watching one of the many on-board videos on a small screen in the back of the seat in front, listening to the sound through a pair of top-end noise-cancelling headphones. How comfortable could a plane get?
‘How are you finding the flight, Dr. Richter?’ came Tompkins’ voice from behind. Richter turned round and found his employer leaning over the back of his seat.
‘Oh, it’s fine,’ he said. ‘Very plush.’
‘Yes, it is rather luxurious, isn’t it? It’s been a long time since I’ve flown. Modern technology has improved the experience almost beyond recognition.’
Richter imagined Tompkins sitting in a wartime biplane with flying goggles on, wearing a scarf that flapped with the rush of wind as he sped through the air.
‘I don’t believe the Captain is entirely impressed, however,’ Tompkins added quietly. ‘Luxury to him is a distasteful pursuit. He believes in building things for functionality rather than comfort.’
‘Yes, I think Eradani occasionally thinks a bit like that as well,’ Richter said. ‘Although she seems to be suffering the video system gladly.’
‘Well, that’s youth for you. They espouse their visions and dreams and ideals, but rarely do they live by them.’
‘Hmmm,’ said Richter. God, aeroplane flights were boring.
‘Why don’t you watch a video?’ asked Tompkins.
‘I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to.’
‘Oh, indulge youself. There is still some considerable time to go before we reach our destination. A nice movie will help the time fly by.’
Richter looked at the small keypad under the television screen. He really wanted to watch something, but he was too afraid to press any buttons. For a man who had made a career out of something as complex as astrophysics, he was surprisingly somewhat of a technophobe. And he didn’t feel like embarrassing himself in front of the others by breaking something.
‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m not really a great film buff. I’ll just read a book, I think.’
‘Ah,’ said Tompkins. ‘The sign of an educated man. Excellent.’
‘Yes,’ said Dr. Richter falsely. He hated people thinking highly of him when he didn’t deserve it. He reached into his carry bag and grabbed a book. It was the second sequel to his favourite book, ‘The Half Empty Cupboard’. This one was called ‘A Box Too Far’. He opened it at the first page and started to read intently. Tompkins settled back into his seat and watched a comedy film. All Richter could hear for the next two hours was Tompkins chortling away to himself.
<=> <=> <=>
They were unloaded at some tiny airport in a small mid-west American town that none of them had ever heard of. Eradani was sure that the place was too small for such a big aeroplane - it was little more than a strip of dirt scuffed on a barren, lunaresque landscape. There were only a handful of staff on duty, and none of them seemed to have a clue about anything relating to air travel. After a lengthy quarrel with the baggage handlers, they finally managed to get their luggage off the plane and dragged it along the concrete floors to the front of the building.
‘There aren’t a lot of passengers about,’ said Denise.
‘No, I was thinking that,’ said Eradani.
‘That’s because this is a private airport,’ said Tompkins. ‘Only registered charter flights may land here.’
‘Are you saying that great big jumbo was chartered?’ asked Eradani.
‘But of course. Why do you think we were the only ones on board?’
Richter looked at Tompkins in amazement. ‘You mean you hired that entire plane just for us?’
‘Yes,’ said Tompkins, bewildered at the disbelief he could sense. ‘Is that a problem?’
‘Not really,’ said Richter. ‘Just seems a bit over the top, that’s all.’
‘I see,’ said Tompkins, affronted. ‘Maybe I should arrange free seats on a cargo plane next time, if you’d rather.’
‘No, it’s okay,’ said Eradani. ‘It was a very comfortable flight, and we are very grateful. Now, what do we do next?’
They were standing by the main entrance to the airport. It was the only visible structure on a boundless, broken, pot-holed desert road that came from nowhere and seemed to head back there too. It was extremely dusty, very very hot and almost entirely devoid of life.
‘We wait to be picked up,’ Tompkins explained. ‘They said there might be a slight delay.’
‘What, the people at NASA?’ asked the Captain.
‘Yes. They’re a bit short on cars, apparently. You know how their budget’s being decreased.’
‘I didn’t think things had got quite that bad,’ said the Captain. ‘Still, it’s been a while since I last worked for them.’
‘When was that?’ asked Denise.
‘1979,’ he said. ‘I was chief test pilot on a highly sensitive project. A prototype upper atmosphere passenger aeroplane. Took off from this very airport.’
‘1979?’ she queried. ‘I thought they didn’t even think those things up until the late eighties?’
‘No, no,’ he replied. ‘You see, NASA used to come up with loads of crazy ideas. Tried them out, as well. Only they never told anybody about them. They were scared that the government would find out they were spending absurd amounts of money on risky, reckless experiments. Of course, the government did eventually find out, and ever since then the budget has been shrinking steadily.’
‘That’s fascinating,’ said Denise.
‘So, is this place a restricted area, then?’ Eradani asked, noting the location and poor transport facilities.
‘Sort of,’ said the Captain. ‘It’s not like a secret military base. Those are restricted by U.S. law to keep normal people from poking their noses around. This place is run by normal people trying to stop the government poking their noses around.’
‘So it’s an illegal base, then?’ said Richter, spotting a small speck in the distance.
‘Pretty much, yes,’ said the Captain. ‘NASA needs places like this to keep itself afloat. It then sells the technology abroad to make up for the budget shortfall. All covertly, of course.’
‘Fascinating,’ said Denise again. Unseen by the others, she slipped a small notebook out of her jacket pocket and hastily scribbled a few notes.
Richter’s small speck grew into a cloud of dust. They could hear the gentle purr of expensive engines and the strangely pleasant grinding of wheels on gravel.
‘Here come our cars,’ said Tompkins. ‘Get your luggage ready, everybody. We’re off to NASA.’
Two large executive cars made their way along the coarse road and pulled up in a great spray of dust and stones at the feet of the Garden Wall party. The passenger door of the frontmost car opened and a smart, be-suited man stepped out. He was wearing sunglasses and carried a clipboard. ‘Mr. Tompkins’ party?’ he asked in a heavy stateside accent.
‘That is correct,’ confirmed Tompkins in his perfect Queen’s English.
‘Okay. Sorry for the delay. We’re a bit short of cars.’
‘Yes, so we understand.’
‘Look, we’ve got to make tracks. The blockades close soon, so let’s get this luggage loaded and get moving.’ He signalled to the second car and an identically dressed man stepped out and grabbed some luggage. Between them, they had everything packed in the boots (or trunks, as the suits insisted on calling them) inside of a minute.
‘Right, hop in everybody,’ said the first suit. Everybody lunged for the first car. There was a bit of fighting, then everyone got into their respective vehicles. Dr. Richter had engineered a situation where he shared with Denise, while the other three took the car at the rear.
<=> <=> <=>
Tompkins squeezed in by the Captain. He shoved himself up a bit to make room for Eradani, who slipped in quietly and closed the door.
‘This is very cosy, isn’t it?’ said Tompkins.
‘It’s a bit cramped,’ replied Eradani.
‘Yes, but not uncomfortable.’ The driver started the engine and slipped the limo into gear, waiting for the car in front to pull far enough ahead to prevent the dirt and dust kicked up by its rear wheels from obscuring the windscreen. When satisfied, he released the handbrake and they glided away quietly over the coarse road surface.
The suited man in the passenger seat turned round to address his new travelling companions. ‘So, how come you’re all the way out here?’
‘We are to make use of your fine training facilities,’ said Tompkins. ‘These two are going to be astronauts, you know.’
‘Astronauts?’ said the suit. ‘These two?’
‘Yes,’ Tompkins corroborated. ‘Why? Do you find that implausible?’
The suit shrugged. ‘I guess it takes all sorts. Anyway, you’ll find plenty of refreshments in the minibar just there. There’s a long trip ahead.’
‘How long exactly?’ asked Eradani.
‘Four hours,’ he informed her.
‘Four hours?’ she exclaimed. ‘That’s ridiculous! I could have a bath in that time!’
‘In four hours?’ he said.
‘Well, if I’m quick, yes,’ she replied.
‘Four hours is a ridiculous time to spend in the bath.’
‘No it isn’t. Not for me anyway. Especially if I have a good book.’
‘In that case I’ll have to make sure I’m first in the bathroom on board ship,’ the Captain joked.
‘No you won’t,’ said Eradani firmly. ‘The first one to wake up will go in first. Usual rules apply.’
‘Not on my ship, they don’t,’ retorted the Captain.
‘Who said it was your ship? I built it.’
‘Please, please,’ interrupted Tompkins. ‘Try not to bicker. Let us endeavour to make a good impression.’
‘I will if he will,’ snapped Eradani.
‘So childish,’ the Captain muttered.
‘Anyway,’ continued Tompkins. ‘It’s not as if there is a bathroom as such on board, anyway. There are four.’
The cars sped on through the desert. One was silent, the occupants merely exchanging the odd word. The other played host to a full Olympic-sized slanging match that lasted the entire four hours. It only stopped when they pulled up outside their destination.
<=> <=> <=>
‘Is this it?’ said Denise. She looked at the old wooden shack with disdain. ‘I thought it’d be a bit more modern than this.’
The five Garden Wallers took in the sight. They had travelled for the best part of a day and had finally arrived at a decrepit, rickety old hut in the middle of a desert. Its doorway was boarded up, the windows were broken and a faded sign that read ‘Bill’s BarBQ Burger Bar’ swung to and fro on one support over the now impenetrable door.
‘It is a bit rustic, I agree,’ said Tompkins. Behind him, the grey-suited men finished unloading the luggage.
‘They must have got the wrong place,’ said Richter. ‘This isn’t a NASA training centre.’ He heard two car doors click shut behind him. He paid no attention.
‘It is, in fact, an old, closed, burger bar,’ observed Eradani. ‘Let’s go and...’ She stopped as she heard two car engines start. She whirled around just in time to see them speed off along the dusty highway. She ran into the road, waving her hands with much vigour. ‘Hey,’ she screamed. ‘Hey, come back! This isn’t the right place!’
‘Eradani, get out of the road this instant,’ demanded Tompkins. ‘You’ll get run over.’
Eradani turned to him in sheer stupefaction. ‘Run over?’ she repeated, deliberately intensifying each word. ‘Run over? By what? There are no cars! There are no people! There is absolutely nothing here!’
‘Perhaps we haven’t looked hard enough,’ suggested Tompkins.
‘I have,’ said the Captain. ‘And I’m forced to agree with the little lady there. It’s desolate, it’s barren and it’s a goddamn desert.’
As if to confirm this, the wind whipped up a little and scattered dust and debris around their ankles. They solemnly looked out over the yellow-orange panorama.
‘You know,’ said Richter eventually, ‘I saw a film once where a top secret military installation was disguised as a small Western saloon.’
Eradani kicked the ground. ‘Well thanks for that gem of an insight,’ she said. ‘I once saw a film with a fifty foot tall robot in it.’
‘And I saw one with some aliens in it that came down to Earth and turned corpses into zombies in order to prevent mankind from destroying itself in a nuclear holocaust,’ said Denise enthusiastically. ‘Wasn’t much good, though,’ she added.
‘Er, yes, I think we’re rather missing the point here’, Richter carried on. ‘I’m trying to suggest that this apparently deserted burger bar might be just a facade. You know, to disguise its true function. To a normal person it looks just like an old, disused catering establishment, but to a NASA employee it’s...’
‘... the concealed entrance to an underground laboratory,’ said Eradani taking over, albeit with a slight lack of conviction in her tone.
‘And I bet there’s a lift in there disguised as a vending machine or a one-armed bandit or something,’ continued Richter, not one to let go of an idea once it had got hold, ‘that transports you down a hundred metres to a vast subterranean network of tunnels and caves where all the classified research takes place.’
Tompkins listened carefully to all this then gave the rotting old shed a cursory glance. It certainly looked unlikely, but it wasn’t as if they had anything better to do, was it? He marched swiftly up to the door and began organising a break-and-enter operation. This involved some woodworm-infested planks nailed to the doorframe with rusty six-inchers, Dr. Richter, the Captain and a lot of tugging and yanking.
Eradani looked on abstinently as the planks were carefully prised off. She was not really in the best of moods. This was just the latest annoying incident in what was, let’s face it, a great big fiasco of a project. Admittedly, they’d actually managed against all her expectations (and bets with Dr. Richter) to build a whole entire spaceship, but she was prepared to put that down to luck. Realistically, this was exactly the kind of farcical situation that best summed up their time with Tompkins.
The last plank came off.
<=> <=> <=>
It was empty. Totally barren. There was not a single item of furniture - not a chair, not a cupboard, not a stool, and certainly no vending machine. The only contents held within the four walls were several inches of dust and quite a lot of spiders. Eradani looked warily at the bewildering array of webs slung haphazardly across the ceiling by the arachnid tenants. In several places they were illuminated eerily where the roof had fallen in, and this made her want to leave. Quickly.
If it was the entrance to a secret NASA research base, they’d gone to extraordinary lengths to disguise it.
Without saying a word, they all shuffled back outside again.
<=> <=> <=>
They sat on their suitcases outside the burger bar. Three hours they’d been there now. They were thoroughly fed up with playing charades. Eradani was convinced they’d run out of films half an hour ago. Tompkins had suggested they play eye spy, but after ‘dust’ and ‘burger bar’ they’d run out of subjects. The Captain had at one point introduced them to a game called Dragon, but it was only really a two-player game and attempts to adapt it for five resulted in little more than major bewilderment.
‘Look, we’re going to have to go for help,’ said Dr. Richter eventually. ‘We could be here ages waiting for someone to come looking for us.’
‘Looking for us?’ said Eradani. ‘Why would anybody look for us? Nobody knows we’re here.’
‘The people at NASA do,’ he replied.
‘Do they? They probably just think we had second thoughts and stayed at home.’
‘Well, what about the drivers, then?’
‘They could have abandoned us here on purpose.’
‘Then we have to start walking,’ the physicist repeated. ‘We have no choice.’
‘So which way do we go?’ asked Denise. ‘It all looks the same to me.’
They lapsed into a silence. Each of them contemplated their situation privately. There didn’t seem much point in talking.
‘So,’ said Eradani to the Captain, finally breaking the silence. ‘What does the G stand for?’
‘Hmm?’
‘Your first name. Your initial is G. What for?’
‘Never you mind.’
‘Ah, there you are,’ said a different voice.
As one, the five abandoned souls jumped to their feet. They were startled to see a forty-something man with a black beard and white shirt suddenly standing behind them. ‘We thought you’d got lost,’ he said pleasantly.
‘Who are you?’ asked Eradani.
‘My name’s Bill Winter,’ he said. ‘Deputy Head of Zero Gravity Acclimatisation at the plant.’
‘Plant? What plant?’ asked Dr. Richter.
‘The one you’ve come to visit,’ he said confused. ‘You are Mr. Tompkins’ party?’
‘That’s correct,’ said Tompkins. ‘I am Tompkins.’
‘Ah, good. I was worried for a second then. Well, shall we get you all settled in then, before we start business?’
‘Settled in where?’ asked Eradani, looking at the shack. Bill saw her staring past his shoulder.
‘Oh, no, not in there,’ he laughed. ‘We’ve been meaning to get that knocked down for years. Just haven’t got the time, you know?’
‘So where’s the base, then?’ she asked.
‘Oh, it’s underground,’ he explained. ‘The entrance is just behind the shack.’
‘Behind it?’ the Captain said with gritted teeth.
‘Yes. You can’t miss it. Great big tunnel with barrier and guards. Why do you ask?’
‘Because we’ve been sitting out here for over three hours!’ said Eradani.
‘Why?’ he asked innocently.
<=> <=> <=>
Several days later, Dr. Richter climbed up a set of aluminium stepladders and peered into a small capsule. It seemed very cramped.
‘Are you sure this is safe?’ he asked again.
‘Of course it is,’ said Bill reassuringly. ‘We’ve used it dozens of times.’
‘Well, if you’re sure,’ said the physicist. He stepped off the ladders and into the small capsule. Bill removed the ladders and put them to one side. He stood under the capsule and looked up at Richter.
‘Now remember what I told you,’ he said. ‘Strap yourself in and make sure it’s good and tight.’ He waited while Richter fumbled with the strap. ‘Good. Now, make sure your head and body are pushed well back into the seat. It’s ergonomically designed to contour round your body. It’ll hold your head steady during the session. If your head’s not in place, you’ll find it being forced back during the rounds. You’d end up with a very sore neck in the morning I can tell you.’
Dr. Richter pushed himself back just a bit further, to make sure. ‘Actually, centrifugal forces are an interesting topic, you know...’ he started.
‘Dr. Richter, I really don’t have time to get involved in a discussion about inertial physics, I’m sorry. I’ll go and start her up.’
Bill left the room, returning momentarily to grab the stepladders, then retired to the control room.
The door at the front of Richter’s capsule was still fully open, and he could just about see the edge of the window of the control room. Like the rest of the wall, it was highly curved. The entire room was in fact circular in shape, and contained only one piece of apparatus - the centrifuge that he had, rather stupidly, just voluntarily climbed into. Craning his head upwards, he could see the bulky arm that the capsule formed the fist of. The shoulder of the arm was attached to a huge column in the centre of the room. It looked extremely daunting from so close up.
He heard Bill’s voice crackle out over an intercom system in his capsule. ‘I’m closing the door now,’ said the scratchy, metallic voice. ‘Have a good trip.’
Dr. Richter heard a click, and then saw the door start to close towards him with a low-pitched mechanical whine. He started to feel extremely nervous. His mouth went dry and his stomach started vaulting around his abdomen. The door shut with a firm clunk. For a moment, nothing happened. That was always the worst, that split-second of waiting before something terrible started. Like the pause before the examiner says, ‘you may begin’.
He caught his breath. He heard a slight hiss from the machine’s hydraulics. Smoothly, so gently that he didn’t even notice at first, the powerful motor started to swing the capsule round. He saw the control room roll slowly by through a small window in the door. The tiled wall of the room carouseled serenely past. It was all thoroughly genteel thus far. After a surprisingly long time, the control room window drifted past again. And then again, but quicker that time. Dr. Richter at last began to feel the pseudo-force generated by the circular motion pushing him towards the back of the contoured chair. After not such a long time, the control room window flashed by again. The capsule was beginning to accelerate rapidly now. Dr. Richter found his right arm beginning to be pushed into his body, so he adjusted it slightly. He tried to extend his left arm in front of him, but it felt like trying to push a brick through custard. To make matters worse he began to suffer from motion sickness as the centrifuge continued accelerating. The control room window was now flashing by at great speed every second or so. Faster and faster it span. Dr. Richter felt his whole body pushing backwards into the chair. His left arm was being squashed up against the side of his seat, causing pins and needles to shoot spikily up and down it. His face was squashed back against his skull and his hair was splayed backwards across the chair. The view outside the window was now nothing but a blur. He found it impossible to keep his eyes fixed on the window and decided it was probably best to shut them. He couldn’t. His eyelids were being forced back too strongly by the g-force. It all began to grow very hazy. Sleep. He wanted to sleep. He was... very... tired.
<=> <=> <=>
‘Wuugh,’ groaned Dr. Richter.
‘It’s okay, it’s over now. You did well,’ said Bill. He was standing on the stepladders looking into the capsule. Dr. Richter had begun to come round just before it had stopped rotating.
‘My head,’ he moaned.
‘Yes, yes, I know. I remember the first time I went in one of these things. Come on, let’s get you out of here.’
With no little difficulty, Bill helped Richter out of the capsule and down the stepladders. Together, they stumbled back to the physicist’s quarters, passing on the way the zero-gravity water simulation room, where Eradani was having a great time messing about at the bottom of a swimming pool in a mock space suit.
<=> <=> <=>
Tompkins sat at the large, but obviously very cheap, dining table. All his companions were there except for Dr. Richter.
‘How has the day been, then?’ Tompkins asked, addressing everyone.
‘It’s been okay,’ answered Eradani. ‘I had some training in a space suit. They stuck me in a swimming pool to simulate zero gravity and got me to undo nuts and put together tubes and things. They seem to think it’ll be useful in space. Can’t imagine why.’
‘I see. And where is our friend Dr. Richter? I see he is absent.’
‘He went on the centrifuge today,’ said Eradani. ‘He’s been dreading it all week. Probably can’t even stand up straight.’
‘Ah, yes. The feared centrifuge. Still it is a necessary evil, and one you must all conquer over the coming days.’ He tucked a napkin into his shirt. ‘I have heard that you are all progressing nicely in your training. This is pleasing news. Keep up the good work.’ He smiled broadly at his indifferent crew. ‘Ah. Here is the starter course.’
The tomato soup arrived at the table. Which is more than Dr. Richter did. He wasn’t seen for the next two days.
<=> <=> <=>
The next three weeks passed without incident. Dr. Richter finally conquered the centrifuge, but never came close to liking it, and found most of the other courses either hugely tedious or extremely difficult.
He was glad to be getting out of there.
But he did like the certificate they printed out for him though. It said that he now a fully certified, bona-fide astronaut.
There was nothing left to stop him from achieving his dream. Well, mostly nothing; it was always possible he might get chicken pox, but that sort of thing simply never happens.
He really was going into space.